


The Twelve That Was Supposed to be a Ten

by VenomQuill



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: 1950-something, Gen, Kindergarten, When things changed forever
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-15
Updated: 2017-11-15
Packaged: 2019-02-02 18:09:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12731634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VenomQuill/pseuds/VenomQuill
Summary: Stanley and Stanford are twin boys that go to school with all the other kids.





	The Twelve That Was Supposed to be a Ten

**Author's Note:**

> Find it on dA: http://fav.me/dbts0g0

Sunlight flickered in through the smudged windows, lighting up the cool interior, sending light over the colors of poorly made artwork, and setting the hair of a dozen little kids and their teacher aglow. Kids giggled and chattered as they swarmed their seats. A pair of twins sat near the front. Rather, a twin took his brother and pulled him to the front so that they could sit together closer to the teacher. The teacher shushed the kids as she moved to the front of the room, her arms full of large, colorful papers.

“Okay, children! Eyes up here!” she trilled as she arrived at the front board. The children’s conversations ended and a dozen sets of eyes stared up at her. She pulled out a sheet of paper filled with a rather large, black number one. “One.”

“One!” many of the children parroted. Stanley didn’t pay attention to the teacher. Instead, he paid attention to Stanford.

“Two.” She set up a red number two.

“Two!” Stanley watched Stanford say it before speaking.

“Three.” A yellow three was on the board, now. Eventually, they got from one to ten. Then, for good measure, the teacher pointed to each number in turn and went through it again. Stanford grasped the concept quickly. While Stanley stuttered a bit, he concentrated on Stanford and was able to answer the question asked almost at the same time the second time around.

Then, the teacher pulled up a chair, sat down, and held out two fists. She raised one finger. “One.”

The other kids followed. Stanford looked a bit nervous, now. He didn’t usually like showing his hands. After all, his parents always looked at them weird because they weren’t the same as Stanley’s. Regardless, he was having fun.

“Two.” She held up another finger. The class followed. Stanley held up two fingers, excited, now, as he got to look at himself and not just his brother to learn something.

“Three. Four. Five. Six.” The teacher slowly went through the numbers. Stanford stared at his hands and trailed off at “six”. Why did she only count five on one hand? Stanford still had another finger on that hand. “…Nine. Ten! Very good!”

Stanford looked at Stanley, who held out both open hands. Stanford still had two fingers pressed to his palm. Stanford copied his brother, despite the fact that it made absolutely no sense.

“Okay, now. One. Two.” The teacher closed her fist and then held up individual fingers again. Again, Stanford had two fingers left after she stopped counting. Why? _Why?_ He could ask, but then he’d make all the other kids look at him. Stanford glanced at the other kids. They all had their hands open. Why was Stanford the only one that didn’t get it?

The teacher closed her fists and everyone–including Stanford–followed. “Zero.” She held out one hand to form a circle. Stanley, confused, looked at Stanford. When Stanford held up his own hand like that, Stanley did the same. “Five.” She held out the fingers on one hand. Stanford did the same, while mentally counting. This didn’t make any sense! “Ten!” She held up both open hands. Stanford looked at Stanley and showed him his hands.

Stanley, who’d never taken note of anything being different about his brother save for the fact that he was really fast at learning stuff, took his hand. Then, he held out his hand next to Stanford’s. He counted his own fingers and tapped each one of Stanford’s in turn. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six? That couldn’t be right. So, he counted again.

“Eyes on me, please!” The teacher raised her voice a bit to catch the attention of the brothers. She had just finished going over the numbers again.

Stanford tried to follow along, he really did. But all got was even more confused. Why wasn’t this working? Now Stanley looked at him, very confused as well. Stanford whined and then, as soon as the teacher showed all ten fingers, he burst out, “That’s not right! Look!” He held out his hands. Two fingers were still down. Now he had the attention of the class as well as the teacher.

She stood up and held up his hands. “Hmm… Well, how about you just count with your fingers, right now?” She tapped his fingers. “And not your thumbs?” She pressed down on his thumbs so that he held them flush to his palms.

“But that doesn’t make sense!” he whined, tears starting to well up in his eyes.

“Yeah!” Stanley agreed. “It doesn’t!”

“That’s because you have _twelve_ fingers, see? One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten. Eleven. _Twelve_.” She tapped each finger of his as she spoke. “But we only have ten. So, we can only count to ten with our hands. But you can count to twelve.” She lowered her voice a bit. “That’s even better. See?”

Stanford sniffled and dried off his tears on his sleeve. He looked at his hands again. This time, he held his thumbs to his palms. “Like that?”

“Yes. Exactly like that.” She smiled at him and walked back to her seat.

But the day just wasn’t the same after that. It would never be the same. The kids now looked at him, as if waiting to see if he would cry over his own dumb thoughts and hands. Stanley, as he watched Stanford to learn off him, saw the stares of his class-mates.

The innocent little Stan twins had changed. People their age wasted no time in excluding Stanford and pointing out how different he was. Stanley didn’t hesitate to jump to Stanford’s defense. As they got older, and as the bullying became worse, Stanford tried to seclude himself so that he wouldn’t have to listen to people talk about him like he wasn’t a person. Stanley, too, stopped talking to people. It was not because he wasn’t social, oh no. He just never had the time. Every time there was something they had to do with the class or outside of class or with people in general, Stanford would always try and slink off and Stanley would have to take him by the hand and lead him back.

Even if it was just the two of them, everything they did together became fun. Stanley joked around when he was supposed to be serious or muttered complaints to Stanford or mimicked people he didn’t like in a mocking tone. He’d make a show of saying that Stanford would teach stuff better than the teacher because Stanford was really smart. He’d get a good hit on the head from a ruler for that comment. Stanford always helped Stanley with his homework. Since Stanford knew Stanley, and Stanley really trusted Stanford, it was much easier for Stanley to learn from him. Whenever Stanley was pulled into a fight–the fight mainly being some jerks trying to belittle his already heavy-hearted brother–Stanford would always find a way to pin the blame on other students and get Stanley out of most trouble. Everyone believed the teacher’s pet over some dumb bullies. Stanley and Stanford did everything together because together was all they had. They were the extra two, the twelve that was supposed to be a ten.

**Author's Note:**

> I was just thinking: I learned to count to ten using my fingers. Sometimes, I still do it for things I need to do in my head, mainly for tallying since I'm really not good at math. But Stanford... well, he has two extra fingers.
> 
> Also, when did the bullying start? It couldn't have been before school. After all, the main reason Stanford gets bullied is because he was twelve fingers rather than ten. Before school, they couldn't even count to ten. Because of that, he shouldn't have any real reason to be shy about his hands, right? Well, people who notice it don't tell him for fear of making him cry. (Have you seen their father? You don't need to meet the guy or know his morals to abandon ship.) But that didn't kepe them from staring or acting differently. So, I'm thinking that it started when people just looked at the kids differently--especially when they notice Stanford's hands. But when Stanford hides his hands, no one really looks at him funny after meeting him. It's when he shows everyone how different he is in class that his peers take notice and latch onto it.
> 
> Just a short thing done in a few hours. I was re-writing some special things for a special fanfic of mine, but then got depressed and wandered off. I ended up making this. Also, it was "Alright, dorks, listen good. You're a six-fingered freak" but I just couldn't do it. This title is better. I like it more.


End file.
